


The Red Rose and the Razgriz

by Skylinneas



Series: Tales of Strangereal [2]
Category: Ace Combat
Genre: Ace Combat 5: The Unsung War, Documentary, Gen, POV Original Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:14:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26104771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skylinneas/pseuds/Skylinneas
Summary: A story of the Circum-Pacific War told through the eyes of a Yuktobanian ace pilot, callsign "Wisna 2", detailing her experience through the conflict and her encounters with the Demons of Razgriz that changed her life forever. Spoilers for AC7's ending.
Series: Tales of Strangereal [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1895308
Kudos: 7





	The Red Rose and the Razgriz

_The Circum-Pacific War, more commonly known as the Belkan Conflict, still remains a subject of discussion and controversy even after nine years since it was resolved. Many believed that the war was a product of lingering despair and hatred that remained ever since the Belkan War ended in 1995. A group of Belkan extremists, fueled by their desire for vengeance against two of the world superpowers they saw as those responsible for their country's downfall, infiltrated both the Osean Federation and the Union of Yuktobanian Republics. They systematically manipulated government officials and military officers of both sides into instigating a war on one another, hoping that the two nations would tear each other apart in a bloody conflict that followed._

_And yet, the conflict was swiftly brought to an end within four months, thanks to a mysterious air force squadron consisted of four pilots. Admired by their allies and feared by their enemies, they came to be known as the "Demons of Razgriz", after the mythical demon of the same name that is well-known and retold throughout the world: a tale of a demon who rained death upon the land, slain after men unite together and cut the beast down. However, after a period of slumber, in which men turned on one another as madness consumed the world, the Razgriz returned as a great hero and put an end to the conflict once and for all._

_Intrigued, I found myself researching for more details about this mysterious air force squadron. I myself was no stranger to demon tales. My latest documentary: "Warriors and the Belkan War" chronicled the tale of a legendary pilot known as the Demon Lord of the Round Table, who disappeared from the sky shortly after the Belkan War ended, never to be seen again. Just like the Demon Lord himself, the Demons of Razgriz disappeared soon after the conflict ended, never again to be seen in the skies._

_Determined to learn more about them, I once again traveled the world looking for answers. The late former Osean President, Vincent Harling, had announced in the 2013 Osean Federation Council Meeting that all records detailing the Belkan Conflict will be released to the public in 2020. However, I wanted to see the Razgriz pilots through the eyes of those who had personally flew with them in battle, and so I decided to seek out my own answers._

_My journey brought me to Cinigrad, the capital of Yuktobania, and I had a chance to interview one Lydia Petrova, a former pilot of Yuktobanian 501st Squadron, the famed Wisna Squadron. Callsign Wisna 2 and famous among her friends as the "Red Rose of Okchaburst", she and her wingmen were among the precious few pilots who had flown in the same skies as the Demons of Razgriz and lived to tell the tale. At present, she had already retired from the air force and is currently working as a florist in her hometown._

_This is her story._

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When I first encountered the Demons of Razgriz, they weren't known by that name yet.

Nobody is entirely sure of who they are, but many people believed that they might be the Osean squadron from Sand Island Air Force Base, Osea's first line of defense against our assaults. From what I've heard, they've managed to successfully defend the base against our forces multiple times, even sinking one of our super submarines Scinfaxi in the process as well.

My first glimpse of them was on October 22, 2010. We were on the mission to intercept and shoot down an Osean cargo plane on a top secret mission. It was three weeks since our last assault on Osea, so they weren't expecting any attack. It was supposed to be an easy assignment: just fly across the pond, shoot the plane down, and get back. There wasn't even supposed to be any escort plane.

Of course, the intel was wrong.

There were four Osean fighters covering the cargo plane. The cargo plane itself was damaged, and the way it flew suggesting that its pilot was attempting an emergency landing in the field below. The four fighters were ferocious. They shot down several of our advance forces. I could see their gracefulness in their flying. There were still flaws in their maneuvers, but they were definitely promising pilots. Before we could test their skills in battle ourselves, the command had ordered us to retreat. I remember my flight lead being so disappointed when he landed back at the base, and to be honest, I felt the same as well myself.

Early in November, the Osean forces were advancing on our country's soil. The Sand Island Squadron appeared again over Dresdene. Our transport planes were retreating from the front lines. We were assigned to engage the advance Osean forces while our comrades in the Buran and Molniya Squadrons protect the transports. Needless to say, they were no match for the pilots from Sand Island and both they and our transports were all shot down, but that wasn't the worst thing that happened.

As we finished our mission, we returned back to the base to be greeted with angry shouts and curses. Our comrades were gathering in the mess hall watching the news on TVs. An engineering college in Dresdene was bombed that day by Osean planes. Footages of the college being hit by missiles from the distance were enough to cause an uproar among my comrades. They were screaming for the Oseans' blood. Their eyes filled with rage and hatred.

"How could they be so cruel?" Katya, my best friend and fellow pilot in Wisna, spoke in disbelief upon seeing the news. I remember that I was too stunned by what I had seen to reply anything back. Our flight leader, Ivan, simply told us to go back to our quarters and rest up. He said that if we have to be focused and well-rested if we wanted to take revenge on our enemies. I stayed up all night long. I was angry. I wanted to take the fight to those cowards from Sand Island who were not above targeting innocent civilians.

Two days later, our Motherland unleashed its fury on the Oseans deep inside their own country with two terror attacks. The members who participated in those missions were not expected to return. They were on suicide missions and they knew it, but that didn't stop them from shedding as much Osean blood on their own soil as much as they could.

Yet again, the aces of Sand Island foiled their attacks. They then launch a retaliation attack on one of our military bases, which was supposed to be so well-defended, it was deemed unnecessary to provide air support. Our underestimation cost us dearly. By the time the aerial reinforcements arrived, there was nothing left of the base to protect.

If there was still any doubt left in our military about whether the Sand Island pilots were the real deal or not, it was fully extinguished a week later.

Hrimfaxi, the sister ship to the Scinfaxi super submarine, was deployed in the Razgriz Straits, far away from the front lines. Our intelligence had received the news that the Osean superweapon, the Arkbird, was sabotaged from within by unknown assailants, rendering it inoperable and cannot be used to fire on our submarine or its ballistic missiles like it did with the Scinfaxi, so it was free to launch ballistic missiles on the Osean advance force as it pleased.

What's not so fortunate was that the Sand Island Squadron was there once again. They engaged the Hrimfaxi head-on, and despite the crew's best efforts, the Sand Island pilots got the better of them. The conversations recorded by the Yuktobanian Command detailed their last moments: it was like they were fighting against demons instead of humans.

Hrimfaxi, the pride of our glorious navy, the ship that was responsible for so many of our victories, it was affectionately nicknamed by our sailors after the Demon of Razgriz itself, was sunk with no survivors.

"Looks like they were the real Razgriz, not us."

Those were believed to be one of the crews' last words before the ship exploded.

And so, from that day forward, the four pilots from Sand Island had taken the title of Razgriz itself from our fallen sailors.

The very mention of them in mission briefings were enough to stir up nervous chatters in the room. It didn't matter how large our forces were, they were demoralized when the "Demons of Razgriz" showed up in the sky.

"They're extremely skilled, but they're still human," Ivan would often say in an attempt to encourage us, "They can make mistakes, they can be fatigued, and they can be overwhelmed, just like any other person."

I had quite a hard time coming to believe it, but what he said came to a pass near the end of the month.

We were ordered to launch a surprise attack on November City. It was the largest airborne operations I've ever taken part in. No less than eight squadrons participated in the attack. Our objective was simple: eliminate the Oseans gathered in the International Stadium, along with the Vice President of Osea. Nobody in my squadron was proud of what we have to do, but we need to obey our orders.

And that was the first time I fought the Demons of Razgriz head-on.

They had just finished performing a ceremonial flight over the stadium and clearly didn't expect to be attacked. They were caught completely by surprise by our onslaught. That's when I realized that our real objective wasn't to destroy the stadium, it was to take the Demons down whatever the cost. The Razgriz pilots did their best to defend the stadium, but eventually, our sheer numbers wear them down little by little, and slowly but surely, they were being pushed back.

Nevertheless, they gave us one hell of a fight. One by one, our planes were shot down. Katya was among them. I watched on helplessly as my best friend's plane was engulfed in flames and she was screaming over the radio saying that she couldn't bail out. That was my last straw. I joined up with three more planes and engage the Razgriz pilot that shot her down. Eventually, the pilot made a mistake, and I took the shot.

My missile hit directly into the Razgriz plane's engines, and it was trailing smoke. I could immediately tell that it won't be going back to any base. True enough, the plane crashed down right into the stadium soon after, along with its pilot. I must admit that I was satisfied. I've avenged my best friend.

It should've been the proudest moment of my life. In hindsight, it was the most regretful thing that I did.

The three remaining Razgriz pilots turned berserk the moment they saw their friend went down. They engaged us with renewed resolve and ferocity. It was like the Razgriz itself took them over. They were unstoppable.

Before I realized it, the three planes that I joined up with were already shot down, and the missile alert was blaring all over my cockpit. I only survived thanks to my flight lead distracting the Razgriz pilot that was pursuing me, giving me a chance to escape. He gave me the order to return to base immediately while he held them off. I had no choice but to comply. Taking on the remaining Razgriz at this state was tantamount to suicide, and we all knew it. Ivan never made it back to the base.

The battle gave me a hollow realization: we never stood a chance against them at all.

Early in December, our skill was tested once again as the Osean forces finally took the fight through our front door: the impregnable Cruik Fortress, or the "Coliseum" as it was nicknamed by our soldiers.

The Osean ground forces were attempting to break through our defenses twice to no success, mostly thanks to our squadron's efforts. On that day was their third attempt, and this time, they had the three Razgriz pilots backing them up.

If they were still grieving about their friend's death in November City, they certainly showed it as they unleashed their fury on our ground defenses. They even fired on the planes taking off from the sole runway in our base. No matter how many SAMs and AA guns we throw at them, they were completely annihilated.

There were five pilots left in Wisna, including me. Nikolai, my new flight lead, led us into battle. He prioritized engaging the two wingmen of the Razgriz leader as they were less experienced. Nikolai engaged the Razgriz leader himself to distract him while we paired up and attacked his wingmen two-on-one.

The strategy worked, for a while at least. I managed to land another shot on a Razgriz plane in a non-critical area, but the pilot still outmaneuvered me by using our own base's command center tower to cut my line-of-sight. Before I knew it, another Razgriz pilot was after me. I couldn't help but be impressed by that.

Somehow, despite us having the terrain advantage, superior number, and them having to deal with opponents on the ground and in the air at the same time, the Razgriz pilots eventually prevailed. The Osean forces broke through our defenses and captured the fortress at last, and we had no choice but to retreat. We lost yet another wingman in this battle, Pavel.

I was losing hope. Everyone did. The final line of defense was lost and there's nothing stopping the Oseans from reaching Cinigrad in a few days. How could we hope to defeat them as long as the Demons of Razgriz were still flying?

And that's when it happened: the Demons of Razgriz suddenly disappeared from the skies.

I heard rumors from others in the army that the Razgriz pilots turned traitors and were pursued and shot down by their former allies over Ceres Ocean. I couldn't believe what I heard at first. Is there someone good enough to shoot down the Demons of Razgriz on their own? How was that possible?

At any rate, the rumors brought nothing but joy to our troops. To them, this news was a godsend. Without the worry of the Razgriz flying overhead, our ground troops found new resolve in fighting. The Osean forces advanced on the outskirts of Cinigrad, but we were able to drive them away with ease. It became clear that the Oseans relied too much on their ace pilots to win their battles. Without the Razgriz pilots, we finally fight them on equal footings and managed to hold our ground.

A week had passed by with nothing but more bloodshed. The Osean ground forces were getting desperate. They wanted to win the war before the year ended, but our forces made them pay for every step toward our capital. We were ordered to sortie every day to halt the Osean Army's advance. There was no choice in the matter. The military high command's order was clear: anyone who retreated would be treated as traitors and executed for treason.

It got to the point where there were actually civilian resistances forming in multiple locations. They were trying to prevent the war from escalating. The government would hear none of it and sent military forces to round them up to be punished or, as it happened eventually, shoot them on sight. Nobody in our squadron could believe what was happening in our capital city. Prime Minister Nikanor would definitely never allow atrocities like this to happen. He would rather lose the war than let his people suffer.

All of us were getting tired both physically and mentally. We barely got any time to rest. Yuri, the youngest wingman in our squadron, even collapsed on the ground after coming back from one sortie. He admitted to me in the evening that he can't take it anymore. He just wanted the war to end already, even if they lost. He didn't want to see any more death. He broke down crying upon mentioning Katya, admitting that he had always liked her and that he missed her so much.

I was reaching my breaking point as well. I remember asking myself "how much longer must we do this?" The military high command seemed unusually aggressive. They did not seem to care at all as they sent their soldiers to their deaths. It was as if they wanted the war to go on and on so they could kill as many Oseans as possible. What happened to the prime minister?

I wondered about what actually happened to the Razgriz pilots. Many people believed that they were gone, but I believed they were still alive somehow. Even though they were responsible for the deaths of three of my friends and so many of my countrymen, I can't help but miss them. Every time I fought them, I felt like I was fighting for something more than my survival. My skills were tested to their limits. I performed maneuvers that I never thought I was able to do to evade their relentless attacks. They were opponents worthy of respect. My only wish was that we didn't have to be enemies.

Eventually, there were rumors of a four planes squadron, all flying black-bodied fighters with red wingtips assaulting our forces as they were searching for a resistance base in Payavlenie Ravine. They managed to evade our cutting-edge AA system by flying in the ravine itself, and they even managed to take on the infamous Ofnir Squadron and won. I heard from one of the survivors that the mysterious planes fought the Ofnirs in a high-speed chase inside the ravine: an extraordinary feat that only a few pilots were capable of.

I've always disliked the Ofnirs. They were a group of four Belkan pilots that our country recruited into our ranks after the Belkan War ended, and it was obvious that they still harbored hatred for us for them losing that war. They were reckless and always look down on pilots less skilled than they are. They're also not above shooting down retreating forces, often toying with them, giving them a false hope that they might make it out alive before killing them without mercy. It's about time somebody managed to put those arrogant pilots in their places.

A few days later, there was a news report that the Osean superweapon Arkbird crashed into the Ceres Ocean. The cause of the crash was unknown, but I believed the mysterious squadron that shot down the Ofnirs was involved. Further investigations revealed that the Arkbird was initially heading toward my hometown of Okchabursk on the east coast. A nuclear warhead was discovered in the craft's cargo hold, making its intention very clear.

The High Command saw this as the last straw. Ten days later, they amassed one of the largest fleets in our military history and marched them straight for Osea, determined to launch one final assault on the country while most of their forces were occupied on our lands. Most of the fleet went ahead of us, but we were stationed onboard the aircraft carrier _Admiral Aleksandra_ , which was being repaired at Okchabursk and was to be sent out as soon as the repair was complete. Nevertheless, we kept track of the advance fleet's status through the radio chatters from their ships in the communications center.

There was only one small Osean fleet blocking the advance fleet's path: four ships and one carrier. To our bewilderment, the Osean aircraft carrier hailed us, and none other than Prime Minister Nikanor's voice came out of the radio. He said he was currently on board the carrier Kestrel for the sake of restoring peace between our nation and Osea, and he begged our fleet to stand down and stop fighting.

Our fleet commander, Admiral Vladimir Sokov, accused the prime minister himself as a traitor and ordered all ships to engage the Osean fleet. The captain of the frigate _Pitomnik_ disobeyed the order and redirected the ship to block the rest of the fleet, pleading with his fleet commander to stand down. The admiral then dismissively announced that a traitor was blocking the way, and ordered the loyal ships to fire on the _Pitomnik_. She didn't even last half a minute before she sank to the bottom of the sea along with all hands.

Then the most shocking thing happened. The captain of the missile destroyer _Gumrak_ declared that his crew cannot follow a fleet commander who's willing to sink one of his own ships, and sailed away to join the Kestrel. Two more ships followed him in the defection, the destroyers _Chuda_ and _Dub._

Eventually, another Osean fleet arrived in the area and they began opening fire on both our fleet and the Kestrel fleet, resulting in a three-way battle in this sea of chaos. For some reason, our radios picked up a continuous broadcast from the Kestrel. It was a song, a popular anti-war song called "The Journey Home": the very same song I heard the Osean crowd singing in that stadium back in November City.

"They were tired of this godforsaken war as well. About damn time people get their acts together." Nikolai told us.

The captain of the _Admiral Aleksandra_ , Leonid, agreed with the defectors. He reasoned that the war brought nothing but chaos and hatred to both countries, and it's time to bring it to an end. He ordered everyone who did not agree with his idea to get off the ship, and that they will not be harmed. There were some who did, some even threatened that Leonid and those who followed him would be charged with treason. One of our wingmen, Mikhail, even pulled a gun on his former comrades, but Nikolai managed to convince him to stand down at the last second.

"I know how you feel, Mikhail," Nikolai said, "We all lost people we cared about in this war. God knows how much I wanted those Oseans to pay for killing Ivan, Katya, and Pavel, but now we have a chance to end this madness. Yes, making peace won't bring those who died back, but neither does vengeance. We can stop more senseless waste of lives by ending this thing right now."

Mikhail was always a good soldier. He would follow his orders to the letter even if it kills him. That was the first time he doesn't know what to do. He said that everything he did, he did it all for the Motherland. I told him that this was what the Motherland needed, for us to stop the violence from spreading further. It took him a while, but he finally relented and put the gun away.

Our backup fleet soon left the harbor to join up with the Kestrel fleet. By the time we got there a day later, the battle was over. Admiral Vladimir's advance fleet was completely annihilated, as did the second Osean fleet that preferred war. The three defector ships were sailing proudly alongside the Kestrel. Somehow, the numerically inferior fleet managed to win against two separate fleets that completely outnumbered it in both strength and manpower.

Suddenly, the Kestrel was struck by two missiles launched from the submarine _Foton_. It was a clever ruse. The crew of the _Foton_ pretended to defect alongside us, only to fire on the Kestrel once it got into range. The Kestrel managed to launch four fighters out before it sank, and Captain Leonid gave them the coordinates of the submerged _Foton._ I watched as the four black-bodied fighters dive-bombed the submarine with extreme precision. Their experienced and graceful flying style could only have belonged to one squadron that I knew.

The Razgriz pilots were alive after all.

After that, Captain Leonid received a transmission from an Osean intelligence ship _Andromeda_. A man only known as "Pops" informed us that Prime Minister Nikanor was safe, and had already departed for Oured to meet with the Osean president Vincent Harling to formally announce the end of the war. However, the battle was not over yet, and he requested us to join the Razgriz pilots as they take the fight to the true perpetrators of the war: a group of Belkan extremists looking to take revenge on both our countries for their loss in the Belkan War.

It was them who kidnapped the peace-loving prime minister away from the capital before instigating the war with Osea. It was them who bombed the engineering college in Dresdene back then, not the Razgriz pilots. It was them who infiltrated the Arkbird and tried to drop a nuclear bomb on Okchabursk. It was them who manipulated the warmongering officials in our government and military to keep the war going. They wanted to see us and the Oseans suffer. There was no sweeter revenge.

I remember Mikhail collapsing on a chair, mumbling to himself what a fool he had been. All this time he had been fighting the Oseans, he was prolonging the war to satisfy some warmongers and schemers who never cared whether he lives or dies. Yuri took it slightly better, though he still had a hard time believing that all this bloodshed was for nothing. Only Nikolai was smiling. He finally knew which enemy we all should have been fighting, and he couldn't wait to take the fight to them.

As we took off from _Admiral Aleksandra_ and joined the Razgriz pilots in the flight to Sudentor, where the enemy's stronghold is located, our prime minister was giving a speech alongside President Harling in Oured. He urged military officers and soldiers of both countries to stop fighting and use whatever means necessary to assist the combined air force in stopping the Belkans from making use of a hidden superweapon, which could wipe out half of the cities in either of our countries.

My hand gripped on the control stick as I realized the actual scope and importance of our mission. This wasn't just a battle to end the war, it was a battle to decide the fate of our countries. If we let those villains have their way, then not only would it make everything and everyone sacrificed during the war pointless, but also leaves us with nothing to fight for anymore.

More and more allies joined us on the way there. An AWACS plane, callsign _Oka Nieba_ , joined us as well and took command of the mission. Everybody, both Osean and Yuktobanian pilots, was singing the song that brought an end to the war: "The Journey Home". Yuri and Nikolai couldn't help but sing along with them as well. If we weren't flying right now, I would've made sure to record their voices to prank them later. I had never seen them this cheerful in a very long time, and I was very glad for it.

The enemy stronghold, the Gründer Industries main headquarters, were protected by a rough coalition force consisted of both Yuktobanian and Osean warmongers, who were both trying to obtain another nuclear weapon that the Gründer Industries promised them. They were no match for our combined might, especially with the Razgriz pilots leading the charge.

I watched them as they pulled extreme maneuvers one after another in the dark skies over Sudentor. I never thought that I was actually flying alongside them as allies. The last time we flew with them, there were only three planes left in their squadron. Now they were back to having four members. It was like seeing a ghost, and that made me feel guilty.

They were responsible for shooting down three of my friends, but I was also responsible for shooting down one of their own as well. We were pilots from two opposing sides ordered to fight each other. Not everyone is going to make it out alive, and most of the times, you don't get to choose which person lives or dies. That's how it is in a war, but the war was now over. We were no longer enemies, and we shared the common goal of bringing peace back to the world.

Eventually, all enemies in the area were going after the Razgriz pilots themselves. Three enemy fighters were pursuing a Razgriz pilot, the same one that I was chasing down during the battle at Cruik Fortress. I managed to shoot two of them down while the Razgriz pilot managed to outmaneuver the last one and shot it down. The pilot then briefly fly alongside me in a formation.

It was a moment that I couldn't forget for the rest of my life. Even though it was nighttime, I could saw clearly that the pilot was a woman. Somehow, she reminded me of Katya. She gave me a little nod as a thank you, and I did the same in return. Though she was wearing the oxygen mask, I could tell that there was a smile underneath it. I know because I was doing the same thing.

Soon after, there was a bright light flashing in the distance, lightning the dark skies up in a golden explosion. The Belkan superweapon, the SOLG, was now fully armed and operational. Our forces were sitting ducks against its firepower, forcing us to hurry up with the mission. We assisted the ground forces as they make their way to the control facility. Their objective was to open the shutter doors in the long tunnel that cut through North and South Belka, and that our planes needed to fly in there and destroy the core systems that were controlling the SOLG.

I thought I heard the orders wrong at first because I didn't believe there was actually someone good enough to be able to fly into those tight tunnels that leave almost no room for high-speed aircraft to maneuver. Just one wrong move and you could crash into the tunnel walls without any chance of getting out alive. It was almost a suicide mission.

And yet, as the outer shutter was fully opened, the Razgriz pilots didn't hesitate to fly inside for a second. Their skills were beyond anything I've ever seen. I was reminded of those classic sci-fi movies that I watched as a child, where the heroes fly their starfighters into a tight tunnel to destroy the target at the end of it and get out, except this time it was actually happening for real. I was very tempted to fly in after them, just to stay with them all the way to the end, but I know that I won't be any use in there. I would've just gotten myself killed. A sad thought, but we already did everything that we could. Our mission was over.

The Razgriz pilots were successful in their mission. They managed to destroy the system cores that were controlling the SOLG at last, but the fight was still not over. It turned out that the Belkans had programmed the SOLG to crash into Oured if the communications from the surface were cut. The Razgriz pilots were once again deployed into one last battle at the dawn of the New Year's Eve.

We were watching from the deck of _Admiral Aleksandra_ in the Oured Bay. As we were deployed from our country in a hurry just after repairs, the carrier was not outfitted with enough fuel and supply to refill and repair our planes, so we could only watch on the ground as the Razgriz pilots fly toward their destiny. Eight Belkan fighters suddenly appeared and engage them in a last-ditch effort to stop the Razgriz. I could recognize that half of those fighters were actually the Ofnirs. They were in leagues with those warmongers all along.

The Razgriz pilots were outnumbered two-to-one. They were up against the best the Belkan Air Force had to offer. Trails of missiles filled the sky like comets. Everyone performed maneuvers that would've blacked out an ordinary pilot again and again. The Razgriz pilots overcame the Belkans' aggressive flying with their great teamwork and faith in their flight leader. One by one, the Belkan planes were shot down. There were no parachutes deployed. All pilots have gone down with their planes as if their failure to stop the Razgriz pilots means they had no reason to live anymore.

Good riddance, I'd say.

The SOLG then soon arrived and the Razgriz pilots moved into positions behind it. Belka's harbinger of destruction was large enough to be seen even from down where I was standing. Its cross of chaos was spinning menacingly, I felt a chill going down my spine just by watching it. The Razgriz pilots were not deterred. They engaged the gigantic satellite and fired missiles upon missiles at it, slowly tearing away its layers piece by piece. The debris falling off from the SOLG flew straight into the Razgriz planes following it, yet they managed to evade them all at the last second.

I couldn't even imagine how much stress and tension were going through those aces' minds at that moment. They had to deal with split-second decisions to evade the falling debris and engage their objective at the same time, all while burdening the thought of millions of lives carried on their wings.

Somehow, my heart was racing just as fast as when I was flying. Everyone on the carrier ran up on to the deck to observe this final battle. Not a pair of eyes were looking away from the sky. It agitated me to no end that there was nothing that we could do to help them. I was never really a person of faith, but at that moment I was praying for something, _anything_ , any miracle to make the Ghosts of Razgriz win this fateful battle and save both our nations. I actually prayed for Ivan, Katya, and Pavel, wherever they might be, to watch over them.

After what seemed like an eternity had passed, the skies over Oured Bay suddenly lit up like a star explosion. The heroes of Razgriz emerged from the explosion like angels descending from the heavens above heralding the arrival of a new age, an age of peace and unity. Almost everyone on the deck was cheering wildly as they flew past us by, those who didn't were crying tears of joy.

Against all odds, they finally did it. We finally did it.

That was the last time I saw the Razgriz pilots in the skies. They disappeared without a trace after that last flight over Oured. I had led a fairly comfortable life since then. Three years after the conflict, I retired from the air force went back to my hometown in Okchabursk.

A year later, I and my cousin decided to open a home business as a florist, We were pretty famous throughout the east coast if I have to say so myself. We opened up a second store at Cinigrad, which proved to be even more popular than in my hometown itself. Thinking back, it's actually pretty funny about how my friends nicknamed me the "Red Rose of Okchaburst" back when I was in the air force, just because I have a ginger hair that happened to be as red as a rose. When I became a florist, I found myself preferring to include red roses in the arrangements the most, and my nickname actually became some kind of an unofficial title when customers referred to us.

Sometimes, I went to walk alongside the harbors there and stare across the ocean ahead of me, wondering if the aces of Razgriz ever went back to Sand Island, the place where it all began, after all their adventures. I would gladly give anything for one more flight with those pilots, or at least a chance to meet any of them in person.

I still remember the old friends I'd lost. My best friend Katya, my first flight leader Ivan, and my wingman Pavel. They were all very important to me, but what's more important is the new friends I've made along the way. Thanks to them, our country and Osea have a long-lasting peace that remained strong even until this day, and I couldn't hope for something more.

To every Osean viewer who is watching this, thank you for giving us a chance to do the right thing, to rise above hatred and violence that was plaguing our country. I and my fellow countrymen hoped that you will have quick recovery after the war in Usea. We are glad that the conflict was resolved with peaceful cooperation between your country and Erusea, just as it was with our country and yours nine years ago.

If the aces of Razgriz are watching this, I wanted to say that I'm sorry. I'm sorry for shooting down your friend back in November City. I'm sorry for misunderstanding you for our enemy back then. I hope that you are all leading a good life in this peace we have created, and thank you for being a part of my life. I will treasure it forever.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_And that concludes the journey of Lydia Petrova, the Red Rose of Okchaburst, who bloomed through the chaos of war and was a witness to the important first step toward peace between two former warring nations. I have her to thank for giving me the first piece of the puzzle behind the mystery of the Demons of Razgriz._

_In addition to a florist, Miss Petrova is also working part-time as a volunteer in the Solyut Foundation, a philanthropy organization founded by former Prime Minister Nikanor, which was instrumental in assisting the refugees suffered from the war in Usea a month ago. In a few days, she will be traveling to the International Space Elevator in Gunther Bay to provide supplies._

_Furthermore, she was invited by Nikanor himself as an honorary guest in the welcoming committee for the astronauts of the spaceship Pilgrim One, commanded by Captain Kei Nagase, which has just returned from its seven years-long mission into deep space._

_\- Unsung Heroes of the Circum-Pacific War: A Documentary by Brett Thompson_

**Author's Note:**

> The viewpoint character, Lydia, was named after Lydia Litvyak (who was nicknamed "White Rose of Stalingrad"). Her best friend Katya was named after Yekaterina Budanova (who has the nickname Katya). Both were female ace pilots from the Soviet Union during the days of World War 2. Sadly, both were shot down during the war.
> 
> I've always wanted to retell the story of Ace Combat 5 through a Yuktobanian pilot's viewpoint, though I don't really think I was good enough to completely write a long story that involves complicated dogfights and complex dialogues yet, so a one-shot would have to do for now.


End file.
